For the Love of a Guardian
by GVLuver
Summary: Wasting away her life with a loser, her life takes a turn when she gets hit by a car, putting her in the hospital. Now her meddling mother would like nothing better than to see her away from the man who has ruined five years of her life, and nab the man she thinks is perfect for her daughter...her doctor! This is an A/U.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do own the rights, the rights to write what my warped brain thinks up!**

**Warning: Language**

For the Love of a Guardian

1

They were all hanging around Kami's Place, taking turns in the hyperbolic time chamber, getting some extra training in just for fun. Goku and Vegeta had just stepped out, quickly donning new outfits and watching as Mr. Popo brought out a ton of food, when someone appeared. Two someone's.

"-and another thing, you can't get up off your ass to do anything productive around here!? You are so damn lazy it makes me sick! Why the hell should I have to do everything around the house!? Why do I have to take care of all the bills!? You might as well be the girl, 'cuz I wear the pants in this house!

The lady was yelling at a man in front of her. He had his jaw clenched, hands balled into fists like he was fixing to hit the woman. They didn't notice the fighters.

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up! I'm so damn sick of this, of you!"

The lady crossed her arms.

"Well, then why don't you leave!? Like I've been telling you to do for the past two years!?"she practically screamed. She looked away from them, towards the edge of Kami's lookout. "Why don't you start walking! That way!" she pointed towards the edge, "and don't stop until you fall off!"

There were muffled snickers behind them.

They finally looked towards the group. The woman just looked pissed, ready to blow. The man kind of went white.

"Where the hell are we!?" he shouted, looking back to the woman in front of him. "What did you do!?"

"Me!? Why you self-righteous son of a-"

"Hey! That's enough!" Goku finally spoke up, apparently over his shock. The others stared open mouthed as the woman glared at Goku.

"Stay out of it, Goku!" she turned back to the man.

"How did you...?"

Everyone appeared stumped, and the woman didn't look like she was going to answer any of their questions any time soon. She pushed the man away from her.

"Go! James." She turned away from him. "Leave!"

The man still looked white, but curled his lip at the woman. He took a step towards her, raising his arm. She didn't see him come at her, walking away towards the people staring at them. She happened to look back just as he swung. His fist clipped her chin, knocking her down with a thud. The man was lifted in the air a moment later, a very strong fist curled around his collar. Goku glared at him.

"You don't hit women! What kind of man does that say you are!" He shook the man a little, watching James eyes widen in fear.

They all looked at the woman, thinking that she was crying. Her shoulder's were shaking, but when she looked up, her face was dry, her eyes blazing. She slowly got up, rubbing her jaw, glaring at the man who hit her.

"That's the last time," she said softly, before turning and walking away.

Everyone was quiet, then Goku looked back up at the man she called James. He studied him.

"You've hit her before?" he said in a deadly soft voice. James quickly shook his head.

Goku dropped him, letting out a sound of disgust at the pitiful excuse for a man in front of him.

"Gohan," he said quietly. His son walked up to his side, looking down at the man with an almost identical expression as his father.

"Take him to the city, away from here. Away from the lady," Goku stated, turning and not looking back.

"Okay Dad." Gohan quickly grabbed the man by the back of his shirt, flying off while the man screamed in terror.

"Do you know where the woman went?" Goku asked, his eyes roaming the expanse floor. Almost everyone shook their head, but he saw Vegeta gesture with his chin, towards the back of the property. Goku headed that way, not saying a word. The rest of them looked at each other.

"What the hell just happened?"

* * *

Goku found her sitting on the steps leading to the tower, gazing out at the sky. Her dark brown hair flowed behind her, lifting a little when the breeze blew. She clenched her blue shirt in front of her for a moment, then rubbed her palms on her jeans. He saw her rub her jaw again as he walked up. His teeth clenched.

"Are you alright?" Goku asked softly, sitting beside her, studying the woman that had just appeared out of nowhere.

"I'm fine Goku, thanks. Just the same song and dance," she stated, frowning and lowering her eyes to the floor.

"That's another thing! How do you know who I am?"

He noticed her smile a little, tapping her fingers on her leg.

"I just do, okay? Can we leave it at that for now?"

"Okay," he said slowly. "Um...do you know everyone else?"

He watched her nod.

"How...?"

"Why don't I tell you later, when I'm not so tired and pissed," she finally looked up at him, her green eyes wide and a little frightened, "okay?"

He studied her for a moment. "Since you know my name, can you at least tell me yours?" he asked softly.

She looked back towards the sky, her eyes narrowing for a moment. He saw her hesitate a little. "My name is...Trista."

* * *

They all looked up when Goku and the woman came walking around the side of the building, both their arms crossed. Goku was studying the floor, and the strange woman was studying them. They stared right back. They all waited until her and Goku stopped in front of the group.

"So...how did you get here?" Yamcha asked, a curious expression on his face.

They all watched her shrug.

"What's your name?" Vegeta demanded.

The woman studied him for a moment, before her gaze slid away.

"My name's Trista," she said softly.

No one said anything else.

"Listen," Goku said, finally looking up, "I assume you don't have anywhere to stay since you just got here, right?"

They all watched her shake her head.

"You can stay at Mt. Paozu, if you want. Until you find a way back home."

She looked embarrassed, her gaze on the floor.

"I'm not going to intrude on you and Chi-Chi."

Everyone stared open-mouthed at her.

"How do you know my mom!?" Gohan asked, his eyes wide.

"Look, I don't really feel like going into such a long discussion right now Gohan, so would you be so kind as to take me to the city or whatever. Maybe I can find somewhere to go from there."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed, studying the woman intently. "You're not leaving from here until you give us some answers!"

She scowled a little, and they heard her mutter "Arrogant Ass" before sighing deeply.

"Fine!" she said loudly, plopping down right where she stood, sitting Indian style with an impatient look on her face. The group studied her for a moment, before doing the same. Except Vegeta, who remained standing, frowning down at her.

"Okay," she paused, not looking at them, her gaze on the floor. "Well, it's like this..." she paused again, biting her lip, seeming not wanting to give an answer.

"Out with it already!"

"Shut up Yamcha!" she shot back, not looking up.

"Well," she began again. And hesitated, again. "You all are..."she finally looked up, studying each of them before continuing. "You all are cartoon characters where I come from. You don't exist. We watch you on a television whenever we want, and that's how I know who all of you are!" she rushed out, blushing and looking away from them.

Dead silence.

"That's preposterous!" Vegeta finally yelled.

"Look," she said, looking up and meeting everybody's gaze, "Don't believe me. I don't really care! I just want to sleep for about a week right now. I don't want to argue. That means you Vegeta! And I would like never to see that asshole James again! Got it!"

Silence.

"Good! Now Goku, would you be so kind as to fly me to the city. I really need to find a place and figure out how to get home."

Goku slowly nodded.

"Wait!"

They all looked over as Bulma jumped up. She slowly walked over to Trista. "You can stay with me!" She looked the girl up and down, then smiled. "I like you!"

"Um...okay I guess."

"Hey! How come you'll stay with Bulma and not us!?" Goku asked, pouting a little.

"Because you don't have the room, Goku!"

Bulma laughed. "She's right Goku. And how do you think Chi-Chi would feel you bringing home other women!?"

"She would be so pissed!" Trista said, shaking her head.

"Okay! Yeah, it's still a little weird that you know us and we don't know you so...I guess we should get going so we can figure out how to get you home," Bulma said, linking her arm through Trista's, grabbing Goku's shoulder.

"Oh," Trista said, as if suddenly remembering something, "I almost forgot." She turned back towards the fighters. "You all are practically worshiped where I'm at." She smiled, disappearing with Bulma and Goku.

They all looked at each other again.

"This is so weird!"


	2. Chapter 2

For the Love of a Guardian

2

"It's so much bigger than in the cartoon!" Trista said, gazing up at Capsule Corporation. She stared, wide-eyed, at the massive dome structure five feet from her. She suddenly grinned, almost giddy with excitement.

"This is so cool!"

Bulma chuckled at her obvious excitement. She was still a little surprised when Trista didn't freak out when Goku used his instant transmission to teleport them to her home. _Maybe what she said is true!_

"Tell me the truth, Trista." She watched the girl nod, still staring around the compound. "Is it true what you said up there? You know, at Kami's place?"

Trista finally looked at her, a serious expression on her face. "Yes," she said bluntly.

"That is so weird!" Bulma whispered.

"How do you think I feel!? I thought I would never get to come here!"

"So," Bulma said, walking towards the front door, motioning for the other woman to follow her as she walked into the living room. "Are the guys really worshiped where you're from?"

Trista nodded her head. "Uh huh."

"Interesting."

They sat at the table, Trista still looking around while Bulma bit on a nail, processing everything that was just said.

She stood up. "Well, you must be pretty hungry, huh!"

Trista shrugged, watching as Bulma picked up the phone and ordered some food. After about five minutes, she hung up. Sighing, she looked back over at the woman sitting at her table.

"We're gonna have a lot of company tonight," Bulma stated, pausing briefly and listening as she heard footsteps coming through the door. "Right on time, too."

She raised a brow at the woman. "Ready to be interrogated?"

Trista smiled.

* * *

Everyone crammed into the kitchen. Bulma's mother had to get chairs from other parts of the house to accommodate everyone. Gohan, Chi-Chi, Krillin, 18, and Yamcha were squeezed on one side of the table, while Trista, Bulma, Videl, and Dr. Briefs and his wife were on the other. Piccolo, Tien and Chouzu stood against the wall, while Goku and Vegeta sat at each end of the table. There was food everywhere, mostly on plates, but plenty spread out on the counters and table to feed an army. Trista watched with a slight smile on her face.

"What are you smiling at!" Vegeta demanded, narrowing his eyes at her.

She didn't seem affected. "I was just thinking that I'm very lucky to have this experience."

Everyone stopped eating, well, except for Goku. They all stared at her.

Gohan swallowed his food before voicing his question. "What are you talking about?" They all waited for her to answer.

"Well," she looked around the table. "Do you know how many people would kill just for this chance!? For the chance to experience your world, to live in it for just a day!"

All eyes widened. "You weren't kidding when you said we were idolized in your world?" Gohan asked quietly.

Trista grinned and shook her head. "It's an awesome experience just being here, well it would be better if that idiot James wasn't here, but whatever!"

"Is he your husband?" Chi-Chi asked, laughing when Trista scrunched her nose up.

"NO! Our relationship has been deteriorated for a long time." she scowled down at her food. "It's hard to get rid of a virus."

Peels of laughter rung through the kitchen at her statement. "So I guess you don't care that I had Gohan dump him in the city somewhere?"

Trista's hand came up to cover a laugh. "He got what he deserved, I guess."

"No he didn't," Goku stated quietly, looking at the bruise on her jaw. "Not for putting his hands on a woman!"

She shrugged, looking away.

Everyone sat in silence for a moment.

"So, Trista!" Yamcha piped up. "How do they idolize us in your world?"

* * *

Trista stared, wide-eyed, as Goku and Vegeta sparred. Standing away from them like Goku instructed, so as not to get hurt, she practically jumped up and down with glee watching them fight.

"This is so awesome!" she stated, clapping her hands together.

"Wow!" Someone said beside her.

Trista looked over, noticing Bulma and Chi-Chi studying her. "You really are into the whole saiyan thing, aren't you?" Bulma asked, smirking a little.

They watched Trista's eyes take on a far away look. "Yeah," she said dreamily, "everyone in my world would love to be one, or be with one, or be one and married to one."

They watched her gaze out at the two fighters again. "It would be so cool." She seemed to not blink.

Bulma and Chi-Chi tried to hide their snickers. Trista didn't notice.

"It's pretty neat meeting everyone, not just those two," Trista said, gesturing to the two fighters. "I guess it's the mentality of having powers, being able to fly, always beating the bad guys, that makes this universe so appealing to everyone where I come from."

She sighed. "If I could stay, I would."

Bulma studied her for a moment. "Why don't you?" she asked curiously.

Trista shrugged. "Where would I go? What would I do? I don't belong in this world, that's why I'm trying to get back to mine. I don't want to upset the balance of this existence by being here for a length of time. There's no telling what could change!"

Chi-Chi leaned over towards Bulma. "She's starting to sound like you!"

Trista heard, and laughed. "I take that as a compliment! Bulma's one smart cookie!"

The woman in question preened.

Chi-Chi rolled her eyes, watching as her husband and Vegeta lowered to the ground, starting towards them. She heard Trista sigh.

Chi-Chi's eyes narrowed on the woman. "Don't even think about it!"

Trista snapped her gaze to the woman seated on the other side of Bulma. Her eyebrows shot up. "What!"

"Get your own man!" Chi-Chi snapped.

Trista burst out laughing. "I admit they're both hot, but I'm not a home wrecker! I'm just admiring the view. You gotta admit!" she grinned at the woman. "It's a nice one!"

Bulma chuckled, silently agreeing. Chi-Chi smiled a little, cooling down.

They were still chuckling when Goku and Vegeta walked up.

"What!?" Goku asked, looking at them.

They all giggled again, not answering.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "Women!" He turned and walked away, Goku right behind him.

The three women watched them leave, openly admiring the view.

* * *

Trista glanced at the calendar again, just to be sure. Yep! It'd been a month since she landed at Kami's place. A month at Bulma's. A month with Goku and Vegeta almost every day! She squealed a little, jumping on her bed in happiness. She quickly jumped off when she heard someone come down the hall. _You're a grown woman! Act like it!_ Still, being around all that yumminess everyday! Those virile, potent males. God! Made her wanna drool! She quickly swallowed, taking a deep breath. She still couldn't contain the little squeal that escaped between her teeth. She felt like jumping up and down! _Cool it! They're married remember!? You can't go home with them at the end of the day! _Well, she could sure as hell look! She tried to fight the huge grin that appeared on her face every morning, but couldn't. She knew it wasn't going to last, but while she was here! She was gonna have fun!

"You sure are chipper all the time!" Bulma gazed at her over her coffee cup. Trista smiled, she couldn't help it!

"I'm just happy!"

The other woman smirked. "Happy being around Goku and Vegeta!" she stated, not taking offense.

"Well," Trista started, taking a sip of her drink, "You don't know what it's like to be around loser, weak men all the time. To wake up dreading the day before you even open your eyes. To HATE the person laying beside you in the bed, wishing he was someone else. Anyone else! To wish you could go to sleep, and find that place that makes you happy, and never want to wake up. To spend your whole life, dreaming of being somewhere else, anywhere else besides where you are at that moment, in that time!"

Bulma stared at her. "No," she said softly, "I don't." She laid a hand over Trista's. "I'm sorry you have to go through that."

"Why do you think I'm so happy. I know I have to go back to that, that life that's slowly killing me, so I want to enjoy the time I have here. And you don't have to worry about a thing. Like I told Chi-Chi, I'm not a home wrecker, I would never do that. It's just an awesome feeling to be around a man that you _know_ is good, treats a woman with respect, and knows how to keep you safe. He doesn't whine all the time like a twelve year old boy, he doesn't stalk and pout around the house when he doesn't get his way, and I can tell just from looking at them, their attentive and not weak willed in bed." Trista looked at Bulma. "I'm not trying to embarrass you. I'm just telling you what I see, why I respect them so much. I envy you and Chi-Chi, I truly do. I wish I could find me a man like that. I know Vegeta is rough around the edges, but he's basically the same as Goku. A sure thing." She paused, sighing and looking into her cup. "There aren't any men in my world like that. I think that's what the biggest appeal is." Her eyes met Bulma's. "A man who will protect you."

Bulma swallowed, studying Trista for a moment before nodding. "Thank you for being honest."

Trista shrugged, looking away as her cheeks flushed a little. "It's just irritating," she mumbled.

"And I really wish I didn't have to go back. But like I said, I don't want to upset your world, don't want to change anything with my presence," her eyes strayed to Bulma's. "So have you found a way to send me home?"

Trista softly smiled, her eyes regretful as Bulma nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

For the Love of a Guardian

3

"So, are you ready!?" Bulma peered at me over the top of her computer. Making sure I was standing on the platform across the room, she nodded and went back to furiously typing on her keyboard.

I had been standing here, on this platform, for three hours! I crossed my arms, imitating Vegeta, and tapped my foot.

"Stop that!" Vegeta said from the side of the platform. "It's annoying!" Goku and Gohan, along with everyone else, had crammed into Bulma's lab to watch my "take off" or whatever Bulma had called it. After three hours, they were starting to get antsy. Bulma looked up from her computer again.

"I just have to make sure we're sending her back to the right dimension."

"This is wild!" Goku said smiling, "Too bad you can't let us know what it's like!"

"It's probably like your instant transmission." I pointed out. "But on a bigger scale."

"Cool!"

The others shook their head. "I'm gonna miss you all!" I said, pouting a little.

"You haven't left yet Trista. Hey Bulma! Does Trista have time to stop and eat!?"

Everyone laughed, shaking their head.

Bulma frowned over at Goku, then shook her head. "No. This process could happen in an instant, and if she's not on the platform when that happens, there's no telling when she'll get the chance again."

She went back to her computer. Gohan looked over at me. "I'm gonna miss hearing about your world, Trista," he confessed, putting his arm around Videl. I smiled.

"Yours is happier!" I confessed, before a wave of dizziness assaulted me. "Whoa."

Bulma's head snapped up. "What!? What's wrong, Trista?" She stood up out of her chair.

"I...I don't know." Another wave hit, making me stumble. Everyone started to get blurry.

"Is she okay?" I heard through a long tunnel, before not seeing them anymore.

* * *

"Are you gonna get up?" someone snapped. "You've been in bed all damn day!"

Trista slowly opened her eyes, sighing in resignation when her eyes met James's. _Here we go!_ She wearily sat up.

"Would you leave me alone!"

James sneered at her. "Get a damn life. You sit in front of the computer all day, then you do nothing but sleep. Why don't you find a job!?"

Trista became instantly awake, and pissed as hell. She jumped out of bed. "For your information, Asshole, I'm going to school, remember? And I haven't been able to find a job since February. Or did you forget?" she snapped.

James shook his head, grumbling as he left the room. "Just shut the fuck up and go back to bed. Damn! Don't want to hear this shit!"

"Then you should have left me alone! What business is it of yours what I do anyway!?"

He slammed out the bedroom, and Trista wearily sighed, sitting on the bed. She hated it here. Hated it! _I wish he would leave!_It was her house, she paid the bills, everything was in her name. He didn't pay a dime. _He's a sorry excuse for a boyfriend!_

She flopped back down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. _Man! I wish that hadn't been a dream!_ She closed her eyes, trying to conjure up some of it. _I wish men like Goku really existed!_

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, before getting up and sitting at the computer James cursed a moment ago. She booted up the laptop, waiting for it to load, and putting in her password, escaped into another world.

Glancing at the clock, Trista realized she was late getting to school. _Oh, Well!_ She really wished life wasn't so boring. Grabbing her books and book bag, she headed out the door, ignoring James's little sneer as she passed him in the kitchen. _God I hate him!_ She suddenly stopped. She turned around.

"James."

He looked at her, smirking. "What?"

"I want you out by the time I get out of school," she stated, turning to leave.

"Hey! You can't do that! That only gives me two and a half hours to get packed and leave!"

"So."

He called her a bitch before slamming the door after her. She noticed he didn't say anything about wanting to stay. Glad he didn't, as he already ruined five years. _Story of my life!_

* * *

Trista quickly walked down the sidewalk, glancing at her watch, knowing it was futile. She was already five minutes late. _Maybe I should just skip today!_ Making up her mind, she stopped at the crosswalk, and instead of going straight, towards school, she went right, towards the Starbucks three doors down. Waiting for the crossing light to come on, she thought about her last ruined years being with that jerk still in her home. _Five years! Five years wasted on that loser! I'm glad we didn't have kids!_ She shuddered, not wanting to think how more complicated things would be if they had had kids. _Thank God that never happened! At least I got a break in that department!_ Trista scowled, remembering when their relationship started deteriorating. After being together for only two years, she had started to gain a little weight. James had started saying little things to her, playing it off as a joke, but it still hurt. She had never said anything, not wanting him to know how much it did hurt when he called her "chunky" or "blueberry." Trista swallowed, still remembering how much it ached, even if it was for a little while. Then she had just stopped caring. Stopped caring what he thought, stopped caring how she looked when she was with him, stopped caring if he didn't even sleep with her. And the sex! God, she was glad she never had to endure that anymore! James didn't know how to get a woman hot if he was holding a damn furnace! She had grinned and bared it, well, bared it anyway, thinking that he cared for her, loved her. What a joke! _A man wouldn't treat a woman like that if he truly cared for her, loved her._ Thanking God she didn't have to put up with the mess that called itself James any longer, she stepped off the curb, intending to grab a cup of Joe and enjoy the sense of freedom creeping into her.

That's the last thing she thought before everything went black.

* * *

Trista groaned, her head feeling like it was gonna burst. She winced at the headache behind her eyes, but didn't open them. Her whole right side ached. _What the hell happened?_ Her hand grazed a sheet, and thinking that she was back in bed, slid back into sleep.

Voices woke her. She heard an argument, and a beeping sound coming from beside her bed before she even opened her eyes. She sighed, the action causing pain to shoot through her ribs. Gently clutching them with one hand, she opened her eyes. Her gaze went straight to the lab coat the person beside her bed had on. It was pristine white, falling to the person's thigh, before giving way for green scrubs. The man had his head bent, his back to her as he gazed at the monitor before scribbling something down on a piece of paper attached to a clip board. The monitor beside her bed beeped again, as she stared at the back of the person's head. _Apparently he's your doctor! Duh!_ Chiding herself for being a little slow, she chalked it up to being hit by a car. Yeah, it was all coming back to her now. Her stepping off the curb, not seeing the little Honda trying to catch the yellow light, the force of the impact to her right side, her books flying, the thud of her body hitting the pavement. She didn't remember anything else after that. Trista gazed around the room, noticing a couple of vases filled with flowers on the counter, and the fact that it was nightfall. The shade was up, the reflection of the room staring back at her as she tried to look outside. She saw her reflection. And winced. It wasn't pretty. She had a bandage wrapped around her head, making her hair poof out a little as it pressed the top half to her skull. She had a bruise on her forehead and jaw. Her mouth was cracked and dry. Her skin was pasty and she felt like she needed a toothbrush, bad! Trista's gaze turned towards the door, hearing the argument that had cut through her sleep earlier. It sounded like her mom and James, arguing out in the hall. She groaned.

At the sound, the doctor turned. Her eyes widened, she couldn't speak. Which probably made her seem dumb, but who cared at this point! She blinked, and blinked again. Trista continued to stare at the face of her doctor, trying to determine if this was a dream or not. He leaned closer, apparently trying to determine if she needed meds. She gulped, her voice just above a whisper.

"Goku?"

* * *

**A/N: How do you like them apples! ^_^**


	4. Chapter 4

For the Love of a Guardian

4

The doctor studied her for a moment longer before straightening, jotting something down in her file. He lifted his head to study her again, then pushed the nurse call button on the side of the bed rail.

A voice squeaked out. "Yes, Dr. Spangler?"

"Bring Mrs. Daniels her pain medication now."

The man who looked eerily like Goku punched the button again, turning it off. "So, my name is Dr. Spangler, and as you can see, I'm your doctor. Now" he began, pulling on some white surgeon gloves, "how is your pain right now?"

The nurse walked in, setting a small clear cup with two tablets next to the bed, along with a Styrofoam cup full of water. She stood at the edge of the bed while the doctor checked Trista's ribs, and shined a light into her eyes, apparently checking for any signs of brain trauma.

"My side hurts, but other than that," Trista shrugged, still a little freaked out at the face of her doctor. Her gaze never left him as he straightened, narrowing his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak. Another nurse popped her head in.

"Sorry to bother, but we need Nurse Diane in room 205. We're having difficulty moving the patient."

Dr. Spangler nodded his head, telling the nurse it was okay. They watched the two leave, the door left ajar as they hurried out. The doctor studied the door for a moment before turning back to her. She continued to stare at him.

He cleared his throat. "What was it that you called me a few minutes ago?" he asked, crossing his arms and studying her face. Trista felt a rush of deja vu at the gesture. She swallowed.

"Nothing," she said quickly, finally sliding her gaze away to stare at the blanket, plucking it with her fingers.

"You called me...Goku?"

Trista's face turned red. She didn't meet his eyes. "Just someone I...know. Sort of. You reminded me of him."

Dr. Spangler frowned down at her bent head. "How do you know that name?"

Her eyes shot to his, studying him for a moment. She parted her lips.

Her door banged open, James strutting through and, dismissing the doctor with his eyes, strolled to the other side of the bed.

"Hey baby!" he said loudly, bending down and trying to kiss her. She shot him a look of disgust, pushing him away from her face. He finally straightened, frowning at her. "What's the matter baby! Don't recognize me?" A small smile slid over his face.

"Ugh! Yes and I'd appreciate it if you left! Now!" She glared at him, fighting the urge to vomit. Nausea rose in the back of her throat. "I think I'm going to be sick!"

"Don't be a drama queen!" James said, waving away her statement and looking at the doctor. But her doctor paid him no attention, instead focused on Trista's face.

"Just take a deep breath. That's it. Lean back real slow. Here," he said softly, handing her the little clear cup. "Go ahead and take your medication, and I'll be back in awhile to check on you."

Dr. Spangler finally looked over at the man on her other side, frowning at the condescending look on his face.

"She's been through enough right now. I don't want you upsetting my patient more than necessary. You have five minutes," he stated, before walking out, leaving the door resting against the wall.

The man she detested strolled over and closed it, turning back to her with a frightening grin.

"So," he said, slowly walking back to her, rubbing his hands together, "how much brain damage do they think you have?"

Trista closed her eyes. She knew this was going to be a long five minutes.

* * *

A woman finally came in, hurrying through the door and not bothering to close it behind her, and throwing her arms around Trista's neck. Trista cried out in pain, and the woman quickly stepped back, leaving the smell of Chanel and hairspray with her. She groaned, trying to curl up and gasping as pain shot through her side. A stricken look passed the woman's face.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! I'm so sorry honey! I didn't even think..." She trailed off, quickly going towards the door and hollering out for the doctor. She practically ran back to Trista's side, ringing her hands.

"It's all right mom," Trista gasped out, grimacing at the pain.

"Way to go Mrs. Daniels," James said, smirking.

Her mother glared at the man, her lips thinning. "You, young man, need to leave!"

He ignored her, instead gazing at Trista with money signs in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," he stated, finally looking over at Trista's mom and folding his arms.

"The hell your not!" Darlene Daniels snapped, looking at her daughter for a moment before lifting her eyes back to the scumbag across the room. "You've hurt my daughter enough and I'll not sit by while you mooch-"

She cut off as the doctor came rushing back in, excusing himself as he took her mother's place beside the bed.

"That's enough visiting for one day," he stated, not looking at either of the visitors as he gently lifted the bandage to study the damage.

"Now!" he said loudly, cutting off both their protest. Her mom blew her a kiss, stating she'll be by later to check on her again, shooting James a look of hate when he stated the same. Trista heard them start arguing again as the door closed. Sighing, she closed her eyes.

She laied still as the doctor examined the wound on her side, feeling his gentle touch against her skin. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to embarrass herself by staring stupidly at him. She heard him sigh, then walk away. She heard a rustling sound. She opened her eyes. He had walked towards the door, pulling a pair of gloves out of the box beside it. He suddenly looked up at her.

He studied her for a moment. "Your stitches were pulled. We're going to have to replace them and re-bandage. Let me call one of the nurses to assist. I'll be right back." He left, not looking back.

Trista let her head fall back against the pillow. She studied the room reflected in the darkened window, thinking about her mom and, this time, siding with her about James. She really wished he would just disappear, never bothering her again. Now he's bent on staying, thinking she was gonna get some money out of the accident. As far as she was concerned, she didn't really care, as long as she got better. Her mind strayed back to her doctor. _How weird is that! My doctor looks just like Goku, except not a cartoon! How the hell did that happen! _Trista continued to study the window, wandering what other kind of irony fate had in store for her.

A few minutes later, Dr. Spangler walked back in, a nurse trailing behind him with a metal cart full of bandages and needles. And what looked like alcohol sitting on the side. She studied her bed rail, feeling his gentle touch on her again, fighting the blush shooting to her face.

"Did you take your pain medication?" he asked behind her, gently taking the ruined gauze off her side and handing it to the nurse. She felt him lightly clean the area around the stitches, his movements soft.

"Yes," she whispered, clearing her throat and focusing on his touch.

She heard him grunt. "That's good, because this isn't going to be very pleasant."

She heard the clank of metal, then the feel of cold steel against her skin as he cut the ripped stitching away. The nurse stood beside him, wiping excess blood that oozed out. She felt the pull of a needle a few minutes later, thankful that she did take the pills. She was a little groggy now, but she figured that was good since she couldn't really feel what he was doing. Another bandage appeared on her side, and she heard the cart being pushed out of the room. A moment later worried black eyes appeared in front of her.

"Are you okay?" Dr. Spangler asked softly, studying her face. She felt a smile appear, her eyes feeling heavy.

"Don't worry," she heard him whisper, "It's just the medication taking effect."

She slipped into blackness.

* * *

**Please REVIEW and let me know what you think! ^_^**


	5. Chapter 5

For the Love of a Guardian

5

Trista sighed, slowly opening her eyes as she woke up. She laied there for a few minutes, not wanting to move as a dull ache reminded her of the last twenty-four hours. She felt like she'd been here for days. Her gaze fell on the flowers in her room, and studying them for a moment, slowly sat up, careful not to pull the replaced stitches in her side. Taking her time standing, she paused, testing out her legs before walking over to the counter by the window. There was a new vase of them sitting beside the two from yesterday. Clenching her nightgown closed behind her, she bent down, looking for a card that indicated who sent them. Nothing. The other two were from her mom and her best friend, Ashley. Smiling a little, she gently rubbed a finger over the petals, her gaze swinging back to the unidentified vase. She really hoped they weren't from James. She snorted. _Yeah right! Since when does he think about someone else besides himself!?_ They were beautiful. A mixture of baby's breath, little pink roses, and a light blue flower that she couldn't name. James sure didn't have that sort of taste! His tended to be cheap, picked-up-at-the-last-minute crappy sort, a statement that he didn't give a damn. No, these flowers definitely didn't come from him. _So who?_

Her gaze shot to the door as it slowly opened, a moment later her mother walking through. A hand came up as she gasped, not seeing Trista in the bed before she looked around, finding her by the window. She heard her mother's sigh of relief from where she stood.

"Thank God! I thought for a moment that..." she waved her hand, dismissing the thought as she, gently this time, wrapped her arms around her daughter. "I'm so sorry about yesterday!" she whispered in her ear. "I was just so glad my baby was alive that I didn't think!" Trista heard her mom sniff, then she stepped back, holding her at arms length and studied her from head to toe. "It seems like your feeling better."

"It's mostly the pain killers. I don't feel as bad as yesterday." Her gaze went to the flowers again, fiddling with one of the small pink roses before speaking. "Do you know who sent these mom?"

Darlene studied them for a moment, frowning. "There's no card. I have no clue! Looks like you might have a secret admirer!" Her mom smiled.

"Yeah, right!" She rolled her eyes at her mom's blatant attempt to cheer her up. Giving the flowers another glance, she slowly walked back to the bed, her mother taking her arm as she settled back under the covers. And not a moment to soon, since Dr. Spangler walked in right then. He studied them for a moment before speaking.

"I see you're feeling better. That's good. A good sign." He glanced down at the chart in his hand, frowning for a moment before meeting Trista's gaze again. He smiled slightly.

"Well, as long as no complications arise, you'll be able to go home in a few days. In the meantime, I don't want you overdoing it again, Okay? I don't wanna have to replace those stitches a second time."

"Okay. Um...could you do me a favor. If you can?" Trista asked, studying the doctor. She watched him nod. "Could you keep James, the man that was in here yesterday, away from me, from my room?"

Dr. Spangler's eyes narrowed. "Is he trying to cause you trouble? I don't need him in here disrupting my patients." At her nod, his jaw clenched.

"I'll take care of it," he said, his voice clipped. He wrote something down, then walked the rest of the way to her bed. Sitting the clipboard down on the foot of the bed, he studied her for a moment before speaking, his voice soft again.

"Could I take a look at your stitches?"

At her nod, he gently pushed the nightgown to the side, making sure the rest of her was covered with the blanket. His face serious, he gently inspected her side, his hands soft on her skin. Darlene watched him, then gazed back down at her daughters face, a small smile appearing. Trista seemed to not be able to take her eyes off Dr. Spangler. She grinned for a moment, before making her face impassive as the doctor looked up.

"Well," Dr. Spangler said, resting his hand on her hip for a moment before stepping back. Darlene fought not to grin. His gaze went to her, then back to Trista. "You're doing much better. The stitches look much better than yesterday. You'll be out of here real soon." Was it her imagination, or did he frown for a moment at that?

The doctor quickly picked up the clipboard, asked Trista if she wanted any more pain medication, and when she said no, told her he'd be back later, and left.

Trista sighed.

Darlene couldn't help it, she giggled. Trista's gaze shot to her mother. "What's wrong with you?" she asked, frowning a little.

"I just think it's cute," she said, smiling. Her daughter's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"That you like Dr. Spangler," Darlene stated, watching her daughters eyes widen, her mouth parting a little.

"No I don't!" she protested.

Her mother smiled again, clearly not believing her. "I think he likes you to," she whispered, leaning down towards her daughter. Darlene leaned back after a moment, watching her daughter's eyes go round.

"Really!?" Trista's gaze shot to the door, before looking at her mother again. Her cheeks reddened after a moment. "Well, I'm not going to embarrass myself by trying to find out. Besides, I doubt he really likes me like I think you're talking about. Why would he?" she stated, frowning down at herself. "Why would he bother with someone as frumpy as me? When he could have anyone he wanted," she shrugged after a moment, looking away from her mother, not saying another word.

Darlene watched her, a grim look settling on her face. "I should shoot that asshole James for the way he has treated you the past few years. He's done a number on you, I'll give him that!" She settled herself on the edge of the bed, studying her daughter's face. "You're not fat! You're a beautiful girl who any man would be lucky to have!"

Trista sighed and looked back at her mother. "You're just saying that because your obligated to, seeing as how your my mother!"

"No I'm not!" Darlene snapped, trying to soften her voice as she looked over at the flowers. "I do really think he likes you. And I think maybe he doesn't want to show it. You know, it being a patient and doctor thing."

She patted her daughter's knee. "Believe me! I should know!"

And her mother should, she dated all the time. And received flowers all the time. Darlene might have been on the other side of fifty, but she still had suitors galore. She always had a date, and never went without male companionship. Yeah, her mother knew what she was talking about.

"Well, mom. In case you've forgotten, I've got that little problem called James still at my house."

She watched her mom shake her head, a small smile on her face.

"What did you do?" Trista asked, looking at her mother suspiciously.

She watched a full blown smile erupt on her mother's face. "I sold your house, which by the way, the money's in your bank account. He would never have left that place, you know that. I cut off the power and water, and moved _Your_ stuff into an apartment not far from me. They're nice, and the rents paid for the next two months, just until you find something else."

Trista stared at her mother for a moment, before bursting with laughter.

"I love you, you know that!" she chuckled. "You're priceless!"

Her mother just smiled.

* * *

Darlene left about an hour later, stating she had a fund raiser to get ready for, kissing her on the cheek, waving goodbye, and shouting she loved her all before walking out the door. Trista watched the whirlwind that was her mother leave, sighing and leaning her head back against the bed, closing her eyes.

She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, she was looking up at Dr. Spangler. He was checking her vitals, his hand gently holding her wrist, looking at his watch. After a few moments, he looked up, meeting her eyes. A small smile appeared. _Is my mom right? Does he like me?_ She silently snorted. _Yeah right! Mom just wants me away from James._ She watched him study her.

"You seem to be doing okay. Everything go okay with your mom? I see you don't need new stitches," he teased, sitting in the chair beside her bed. She smiled a little, watching him.

"My mom sold my house," she said abruptly, watching his eyebrows raise a little, but otherwise didn't show any other reaction.

"Really," he softly said. "And how do you feel about that?"

Trista shrugged, looking down and focusing on the blanket draped over her lap. "I don't mind," she started, "I was thinking about selling it anyway. I had bought it years ago, thinking that...well, never mind."

His gaze stayed on her. "You were thinking you would have a family by now."

Her surprised gaze shot to him. "How did you know that?"

"I felt the same way, when I bought my place. Sold it already, living in an apartment now. Seems ridiculous to live in a big place all by myself," he said softly, leaning back in the chair.

They both looked up as the door opened, a nurse popping her head in. "Dr. Spangler, we have a code Stork in the lobby!" she said quickly, disappearing again.

He hopped up, walking swiftly towards the door, pausing and looking back at her for a moment. "Someone's in labor," he said quietly, smiling a little, before opening the door and quickly disappearing.

Trista sighed, gazing at the closed door. _I really like him! Maybe..._ She shook her head at her own musings. Disgusted with her train of thoughts, feeling slightly embarrassed to be practically panting after her own doctor. She felt stupid, her cheeks burning as she burrowed into her blanket. _You have got a ridiculous imagination! To think that someone as hot as Dr. Spangler would want you! You don't even know his first name!_

Swearing to herself that she wouldn't react towards him when he came back again, she squeezed her eyes closed, willing her body to heal faster so she could get out of there.


	6. Chapter 6

For the Love of a Guardian

6

She finally got to go home. Thankful that James hadn't showed his face again. They wheeled her out, a white Cadillac pulling up as she was rolled out of the front doors. Her mom jumped out, hurrying over and pulling the back door open.

"I'm so glad you decided to stay with me for awhile, honey!" Darlene grabbed an arm, gently helping her up as she made her way to the car. "And I'm glad you were here to help, Dr. Spangler!" she gushed, smiling over at the man holding the wheelchair.

"Mom" Trista said, a warning clear in her voice. She saw the doctor give her a curious look. A flush ran up her cheeks. Avoiding his gaze, she slowly sat in the back seat, wincing as the stitches pulled a little. Trista saw Dr. Spangler watching her. She met his gaze briefly before her mother slammed the door closed, the dark glass hiding her face. Feeling safe, she openly studied him as he seemed to study her, though she knew he couldn't see inside the car. Her mom said something to him, and Trista saw him send her mother a small smile, and nod. Darlene turned to the car, beaming. She slid in beside her, sighing as the door closed. Instructing the driver to go home, she settled back, seeming satisfied.

"What was that about?" Trista asked, studying her mother as she chewed her lower lip for a moment.

"What?" Darlene said, not looking at her.

"That! Back there with the doctor? What was it you were asking him?"

She watched her mom shrug, a small smile on her face.

"Fine," Trista stated, scowling. "Be mysterious. Like it matters anyway."

Trista turned and looked out the window, missing her mother grinning at her.

* * *

After about a week at her mother's, she finally got fed up with the hovering, and moved into her apartment. Like her mother said, they were nice and not too far from her. She was practically living in a palace! Looking around again at the space, too much for her to tell the truth, she sighed, her few belongings not making a dent in the room. _Oh Well! I'm not staying here that long anyway!_ She sat on the plush couch, sinking in for a moment before scrambling out, perching on the edge. The apartment had come furnished, the luxurious pieces around the house gleamed as she looked them over. She was almost afraid to touch them. She hated to think what her mother was paying for this place. She wouldn't even have stayed here if her mother hadn't paid in advance. Trista scowled, hating when her mother pulled out all the stops. She knew she did it because she loved her, but she didn't need this much luxury! She could have been just fine in a clean, one bedroom apartment. But No! Her mother had to get her this, a freaking four bedroom, two story apartment! What the hell was she going to do with the extra room? Throw a slumber party? Her head came up when she heard the doorbell ring. Trista quickly walked over, taking care to not pull on her stitches, and flung the door open. She grinned.

"Ashley!"

Her best friend flung her arms out, each hand holding a Macy's bag. "Ta Da!"

She quickly stepped aside. Ashley flew by her, the bags rustling as she sat them beside the couch. Trista got a whiff of expensive perfume as she sat down, watching Ashley pull stuff out of the bags.

"What's all this?" Trista asked, looking at the blouses and jeans laying across the other sofa. Ashley pulled out a bottle of perfume, the soft white glass winking in the light.

Ashley finally looked over at her, after laying everything down to her satisfaction. "It's for you! Presents to cheer you up after getting hit by a car!" she said bluntly.

Trista laughed, holding her side. "You are such a nut! You know I don't need this stuff! Thank you though."

Her friend snorted. "Just try the damn clothes on, butt munch!"

Trista chuckled, grabbing a pair of jeans and blouse, heading towards her room. She closed the door, hearing the doorbell ring again throughout the apartment. "_Probably mom!" s_he thought, sighing. She carefully changed, making sure she didn't disturb the gauze on her side. She gasped a little as she lifted her arm, putting the blouse on slowly and buttoning it halfway. She opened her bedroom door, looking at the blouse, yanking it down a little.

"I think it's alright, but not really me. Ashley-" She raised her head, her face turning red as her gaze met Dr. Spanglers.

"Oh!" Trista clutched the front of the blouse closed. " Hi Doctor." She noticed Ashley sending an appreciated look up and down the man.

"Doctor? Really!" Ashley said, a smile on her face. "So," she said, flinging her hair behind her, "Do you have a first name, or does everyone just call you _Dr.?"_ Ashley said suggestively, a small smile on her face. Trista felt a sinking sensation in her chest. Compared to her best friend, she didn't stand a chance. _Thought you weren't even pursuing that!?_ She blushed, slowly backing into her room, swallowing. Closing the door, she leaned against it, closing her eyes. She could here them talking in the living room. Trista jerked away from the bedroom door, flinging the blouse off, ignoring the twinges of pain as her arm lifted. She quickly put her sweats back on, and sat on her bed. When she was sure he had given up and gone, she quietly opened the door, stepping out.

Dr. Spangler was sitting on the couch. She didn't see her best friend anywhere.

She noticed the doctor studying her. She avoided his gaze. "Where's Ashley?"

"She left, said something about having to meet someone somewhere."

Trista rolled her eyes. That was Ashley, forever the social butterfly! She sat on the couch opposite him, gazing at the floor.

Her head came up as the doctor's voice cut through the silence. "She also said something about not blowing it?" He looked at her, a brow raised. Trista felt her cheeks heat. "She's crazy," she murmured. "I wouldn't pay attention to it."

She studied him for a moment. "Why are you here?" she finally asked, watching as he cleared his throat.

His elbows rested on his knees, his hands rubbing together in front of him. "I told your mother I would check on you. Check on your incision."

Trista knew her face was beet red. _MOM!_ "Oh, um...okay."

Her eyes widened as he stood, walking slowly toward her, stopping in front of her, gazing down at her. She stared wide eyed up at him. There was a beat of silence.

"Are you going to lay down, so I can check?" he asked gently.

"Oh!" Trista leaned back, her gaze fixed on the ceiling in mortification. She felt his hands on her skin. She closed her eyes. She felt him pause. After a moment, she opened her eyes, looking over at him.

He was studying her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" she said quickly, not meeting his gaze. She saw a small smile appear on his face as he looked down at her side. After a few minutes, he gently pulled her shirt back over the gauze, standing and offering his hand. She blushed again, accepting it and sitting up slowly. He sat beside her. They didn't say anything.

"What is your first name, anyway?" she finally blurted out, looking over at him. She heard him chuckle.

"It's Anthony," he said softly, studying her.

"I'm sorry my mother cohered you into coming," she said, wincing. "How mortifying," she grumbled, sitting back. His eyes followed her.

"I'm not that bad, am I?" he asked, watching her flush.

"No! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, it's just," she paused, scowling. "My mother likes to meddle."

"Well, thanks for making a house call on my behalf," she said after a beat of silence, standing. She looked over at the doctor when he remained seated. He was looking at her, his brow furrowed.

She blinked. "What?"

"You don't like me very much, do you?" he asked softly, studying her face.

Her eyes widened, her lips parting. "It's not that at all! It's just, um...I don't like my mother meddling in my life, and I'm sure your busy with other things. You know, a wife or girlfriend or whatever," she said, sliding her gaze away from him, hoping he didn't catch the hint to reveal if he was involved.

He smiled. Apparently he did. But he didn't say anything as he stood, crossing his arms. Trista felt another wave of deja vu. She still couldn't get over the resemblance. "I guess you're right. I do have to get home," he finally said, making his way to the front door.

Trista swallowed her disappointment. _Yeah! Like a man like him is going to be single! You're delusional!_

She watched him pause at the door, gazing at her for a moment. "Let me know if you need me to check that incision again, or if you think you need to call me okay," he stated softly, laying a little white card on her hall table.

She nodded, not saying anything.

He looked at her again, smiling softly. "And the only lady in my life is my lab, Lucy," he confessed, before shutting the door behind him.

Trista flushed, mortified. She sank back onto the couch. "Great going! God! Could you show yourself as any more needy!?" she grumbled, disgusted with herself.

She grabbed the Macy bags still sitting on the floor, shoving them into the kitchen trash can, shaking her head. She wouldn't call him now! How could she face a man like that after being so obvious!?

* * *

Ashley called her later that night, excited about the date she had earlier with a man she called "Delicious!". Trista sank onto the couch, crushing the pillow behind her, but she didn't care at the moment, still slightly embarrassed from earlier.

"So!" Ashley finally said, taking a breath. "What happened with Dr. Hottie!?"

Trista rolled her eyes, snorting into the phone. "I swear! In between you and my mother, I'm surprised I'm not already shackled with three kids already!"

Her friend laughed into the phone. "Well?" she prompted, chuckling. "What happened?"

"Nothing, nosy! He just checked my incision and left." She left out their little discussion.

"Oh," Ashley murmured. Trista could feel her disappointment over the phone. She scowled at the ceiling, subconsciously rubbing her side.

"What did you expect would happen?" She asked, sitting up and walking slowly towards the hall table. She picked up his card, studying it with narrowed eyes.

"Well," her friend said, bringing her out of her musing. "I could tell he likes you. I was hoping y'all had made a date or something!" Trista could hear the pout in her voice.

She closed her eyes. "Well, sorry to disappoint. Besides, I don't know him that well. And I doubt he likes me anyway, not when he could have anyone he wants."

Ashley huffed over the phone. Trista knew her hand was resting on her hip. She grinned, picturing it. "Girl! I know damn good and well he didn't come over there just for your mother! She's not that rich!"

Trista laughed. They both knew Darlene was, but Trista sincerely hoped that that wasn't the case. She would never be able to face him again.

"I don't know. He said he promised my mom that he would check on me, on my incision." She hoped the disappointment didn't show in her voice.

"Well, do you have his number?"

"mmm," Trista studied the card she had in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the embossed letters.

"Call his ass! See if he'll come over, or if that was a one time thing!?" Ashley said, trying to convince her to make a fool of herself.

"I don't know," Trista said doubtfully.

"Just call him," Ashley said impatiently, "if he comes over, that means he likes you."

"Uh, how do you figure! He'd probably get mad at me for getting him over here under false pretense. He's a doctor! He's probably busy anyway," she stated, setting the card back down on the table and going into her room. She laied on the bed, crossing her ankles as she listened to Ashley mutter.

"Don't lose out girl! Call him in the morning or whatever! He's hot! Don't let someone else snatch him up!" she stated loudly, listening as Trista sighed.

"NO! I'm not making a fool of myself again!"

"What do you mean?" Ashley said quickly. She gasped. "Something did happen while he was there, didn't it!?"

Trista closed her eyes, mentally slapping her forehead. She winced. _Idiot!_

"Nothing," she finally said.

"What happened?" Ashley demanded, excited.

"Nothing worth mentioning," Trista confessed, biting her lip. "Look. I've gotta go. I got to take a bath and get to bed. Got to get up in the morning and start looking for houses."

"Why?"

Trista looked at the phone in confusion, before putting it back to her ear. "What do you mean, why?"

"Why are you moving?" Ashley asked, confused.

"I can't stay here. My mom's paying for this place! It's too expensive. Besides I want my own place, paid for with my own money," she stated, pulling her pants off. She put the phone on speaker, laying it on the bed as she slowly removed her shirt. Wrapping a towel around herself, she grabbed the phone. Taking speaker off, she put it back to her ear.

"I need to go girl! Okay?"

She could hear Ashley crunching ice, the sound so familiar that she didn't think nothing of it. Her friend had been doing that for years. "Yeah sure," she said around a mouth of ice cube. Trista smiled, turning the phone off. She shook her head. _That girl's never going to change!_

* * *

She woke up, rolling over and looking at the clock. _5 am!_ Trista groaned, knowing she wasn't gonna be able to get back to sleep. Laying there for a few minutes, replaying what happened yesterday in her mind, she finally sighed, flinging the covers off and sitting up slowly. She winced, grabbing her side. _Maybe it's not a bad idea to call him! Just to check on my incision._ Promising herself she would call Dr. Spangler later, she quickly jumped in the bath, trying to figure out the price range she wanted to start with as she looked at houses that day. Thirty minutes later, she had her clothes on for the day, quickly going through her room and taking out boxes. She didn't want to waste any time.

It was seven o'clock by the time she glanced at the clock again. Feeling that it was as good of a time as any to get started house hunting, she pulled her shoes on. Glancing one more time in the mirror, running a brush through her hair, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door. Trista studied the ground as she thought of a couple listings that had caught her eye. She wasn't watching where she was going as she slammed into someone. She gasped as her elbow rammed into her side. Pain shot down her body, making her cry out.

"Are you okay Trista?" She heard a man say.

She looked up. _Oh! It just figures! What are the chances!?_

"I'm fine," she mumbled, looking at him in confusion.

"Are you sure?" Dr. Spangler asked, narrowing his eyes when she winced a second time. She took a breath, letting it out slowly as the pain receded.

She sighed. "Yeah," she rubbed her ribs. "I think."

He studied her for a moment more, before nodding his head to the side. "Come on," he said, waiting for her to turn around as he passed her and made his way towards the stairs. She looked at him in surprise when he turned left down the hallway, instead of right.

"Where are you going?" she asked, watching him turn around.

He looked at her for a moment. "To my apartment," he stated, watching her eyes widen momentarily.

"I didn't know you lived here also!" Trista said. She watched him nod.

He jerked his head. "Just down here, this way." He turned, stopping at the third door down the hallway, looking towards her as she slowly followed.

She frowned. _What the hell are the chances! I know my mother had something to do with this! She probably figured out where he lived and set me up in the same complex. That conniving little minx! That woman is shameless!_

Trista paused for a moment before stepping over the threshold. She looked around in curiosity, noticing how...barren the place was. No family pictures, no personalization anywhere to mark the place as his. The carpet was a beige white, the furniture modern and dark. She sat on the couch, noticing the fabric felt like suede. The glass coffee table gleamed as the sun came in the bay windows across the opposite wall. Everything was neat and tidy. She suddenly felt frumpy.

"Make yourself at home while I go get something to clean that," Dr. Spangler stated, disappearing down the hall. She glanced down, just noticing a little blood that had seeped through the cloth onto her shirt. She sighed. _Well, at least it wasn't my favorite blouse._ She sat quietly until he returned, sitting on the coffee table in front of her and laying some items down on the table.

"Lay down," he instructed her, not glancing up as he ripped a package open. She looked at him, slowly laying back as he laid out a piece of gauze and some hospital tape. Grabbing a cloth and setting it on his knee, he reached over and started unbuttoning her shirt.

"What are you doing!" she demanded, grabbing his wrists. His eyes met hers.

"I was going to clean your incision," he stated, noticing her flushed face. They studied one another for a moment before she let her hands fall. He unbuttoned two more buttons, opening the bottom of her blouse and moving the material aside. He frowned, focusing his attention on her wound and trying not to notice the silkiness of her skin. He glanced up, noticing her eyes had closed. She still had a blush on her cheeks. He smiled a little, returning his gaze and gently removing the cloth. He heard her hiss between her teeth. His head jerked towards the sound.

"Are you okay? Did I pull anything?"

He saw her wince. She shook her head. "No, it's just the tape pulling. Don't worry about it."

His jaw clenched, trying to be as gentle as he could as he removed the rest of it. She cleared her throat, staring at the ceiling. He laied his hand on her hip, gently cleaning the blood off before straightening back up. His gazed raked over her, stopping at her face. She studied the ceiling for a moment before meeting his gaze.

"Need to let it dry before putting any more dressing on it," he explained softly. He watched her nod, her eyes sliding away from his. He got up and threw the ruined material away, looking at the top of her head. _I wander if she would like to go to dinner sometime!? _He ran a hand through his hair. Before he could ask, she spoke.

"So where's your dog you said you had?"

He smiled a little, even though she couldn't see him. "She's in my bedroom. Didn't want her hovering while I cleaned you up."

He walked over, sitting back down and covering her now dry incision. Putting the last bit of tape over the cloth, his gaze went to hers. He hesitated, watching her sit up. She slowly buttoned her shirt back, looking everywhere but his face. She cleared her throat.

"Thanks," she said softly, rolling her shoulders and standing up. He looked up at her, standing mere inches away from him.

"Would you like to meet Lucy?" he blurted out. She blinked at him.

"Um...okay. Dr. Spangler-"

"Anthony," he corrected, watching as she blushed.

"Anthony," she said softly. "I do have to get going. I have to go house hunting before it gets too late," she stated, looking at his clock hanging on the wall.

"I have a little time right now, if you want to bring Lucy out." A small smile appeared on her face.

Anthony quickly got up, going down the hall and opening the bedroom door. Trista saw a rumpled bed before a large furry Lab bounded through, running down the hall, wagging her tail. Her strawberry blond fur shined against the daylight streaming through the window.

"Oh she's beautiful!" Trista stated, bending down and petting the dog's head. Lucy's tail went wild, her rear shaking with the force of her wag. Trista sat on the couch, smiling as the dog sat in front of her, waiting to be petted.

"You are such a good dog! Yes you are!" Trista laughed as the dog seemed to smile. She rubbed her behind the ears, listening as the dog moaned. She laughed, looking over at him. She grinned.

"She's so sweet!" she said, watching him walk up and sit beside her. She returned her attention to the dog. Lucy was gazing up at her adoringly, resting a paw on her leg.

"You wanna shake hands!" She grabbed the dogs paw, pretending to shake it as the dog softly barked. A low chuckle escaped past her lips, her head turning and looking at the doctor beside her. He was studying her. Suddenly self-conscious, she bit her lip, looking back at the dog. The only sound in the room was the animal's breathing. She softly smiled as Lucy laid at her feet, reaching down and rubbing the hair on her back. She slowly straightened back up, smiling and looking over at the man sitting beside her.

"How long-"

Trista didn't get to finish, as he swooped down and captured her lips with his. Momentarily taken aback, she let him push her down onto the couch. Groaning, he deepened the kiss, cupping the back of her neck and tilting her head as he claimed her lips. She grabbed a shoulder, pushing him back a little. He reluctantly broke the kiss, gazing down at her, breathing hard. Her eyes were wide as she stared back at him. She licked her lips.

His eyes watched the movement. "Do you want to go to dinner?"

A laugh escaped her. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Sorry," she said, "That just caught me by surprise."

Anthony settled a hand beside her head, studying her. "Well?" he asked softly.

She nodded, still a little surprised about that kiss. She pressed her lips together as he sat up, grabbing her hand and gently helping her stand. He stood, watching her face as he settled a hand on her hip. Trista felt her face heat. She looked back down at the dog, avoiding his eyes.

"Trista," she heard him say softly.

She looked back at him. This time he slowly captured her lips, her brain going fuzzy as he deepened the kiss again, a hand settling on her neck. He slowly broke the contact after a few minutes, studying her flushed face and closed eyes. He watched her slowly open them, the green of her eyes soft and unfocused as she gazed at him.

"Seven o'clock tonight?"

He watched her blink. "What?"

Anthony smothered a smile. "Seven o'clock tonight good for dinner?" he asked, watching her eyes come back into focus, her hand still settled on his arm.

"Um...yeah, I guess." She blinked again. Trista let her hand drop, stepping back and swallowing.

She looked up at the clock hanging on the wall. "I got to get going. Um...I'll see you later." She said before hurrying out the door.

Anthony watched as the door quickly closed behind her, sitting on the couch with a small smile on his face. Lucy rambled over and laid her head on his leg. He absently scratched behind her ear. He finally looked down at the dog after a few minutes.

"I hope this works out! I really like her, don't you?"

Lucy wagged her tail.


	7. Chapter 7

For the Love of a Guardian

7

Trista fiddled her fingers in her lap again, taking a deep breath. She shifted on the couch, finally looking up at the clock again. She bit her lip, returning her gaze to the floor before shaking her head at her own stupidity. Dr. Spangler still hadn't shown up. She glanced at the clock once more, before standing and going into her room. She quickly took the dress off, clearing her throat. _I am not going to cry!_ She swallowed, feeling embarrassed for even thinking that he had been serious about wanting to take her to dinner! She glanced in the mirror. _I mean seriously! Look at me! Why would he bother with someone like me when he could have anyone he wanted! _She crawled into bed, not bothering to put on any pajamas as she pulled the covers over her, the sheets cool against her skin. The black slip she had on moved up a little, and she yanked it back down. She sighed, shaking her head again as she closed her eyes. Still feeling slightly ridiculous for even believing that a man like him would be interested, she let her body relax, praying she didn't dream about a black haired, black eyed man who made her feel things she hadn't felt in a long time. A man who looked too much like the man of her dreams, a man who loved with his whole heart.

* * *

Pounding on her front door woke her up. She groaned, rolling over to look at the clock. _2:24 am. _Trista let out a frustrated breath, listening as someone banged again. She flung back the covers, not even bothering to look in the mirror as she made her way through the dark apartment. Narrowing her eyes, she flung the door open. Her eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry," Anthony said softly as a greeting.

Trista didn't say anything, just blinked up at him. She watched him study her for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"I had some family issues I had to take care of," he explained in a whisper, his eyes never leaving her. "I didn't realize what time it was."

She listened to him clear his throat, before his gaze moved lower. He studied her body for too long! She looked down, and gasped. She slammed the door, going to get her robe. She had forgotten all about going to bed in just her slip. It barely covered her damn thighs! Feeling a flush rise, she tied the belt of the robe, yanking it into a knot before opening the door again. She didn't meet his eyes, rubbing a foot along her leg.

"It's okay," she said softly. _Liar!_ She bit her lip, looking anywhere but his face. She didn't glance at him as he started talking again.

"I didn't mean to stand you up," Anthony said softly, taking a step closer to the door. He studied her face, noticing she wouldn't even look at him. He winced slightly, releasing a sigh. "I didn't have a way to call where I was at, and the...trip home took longer than I thought."

She still didn't look at him, studying the floor. "It's okay," she said again, finally looking up at him. She smiled a little, the action at odds with the look in her eyes. "These things happen."

He resisted the urge to wince again, leaning a hand against the door frame, moving closer to the woman standing in front of him. He studied her, his gaze raking over her body. The image of what she came to the door in floated through his mind, and he resisted the urge to groan. Wandering if that was what she wore every night, he moved closer to her, now inches from her. His eyes roamed her face again, noticing the embarrassment and hurt she couldn't hide, before swooping down and softly capturing her lips. He heard her whimper slightly, putting an arm around her waist. He picked her up slightly, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind them, darkness surrounding them moments later. He felt her clutch his shirt, moving his head and changing the angle of the kiss. His arm tightened around her waist, a cry coming from her mere seconds later. He lifted his head, sucking in a breath.

"I'm sorry," he let his arm drop, grabbing her hand and sitting her on the couch. He reached over and turned on a side lamp, studying her face. "Let me take a look, just to make sure I didn't do any damage," he whispered, watching her bite her lip. He resisted the urge to kiss her again, watching her hesitate slightly before untying the robe. He bit back a moan at the sight of the black slip covering her body, barely going to her thighs. He clenched his jaw, waiting for her to lay on her side before moving. He kept the robe over her as he lifted the slip, stopping at her ribs. He felt her shudder as he laied a hand on her side. Anthony glanced at her, noticing the flush on her face. She had her eyes closed. A small smiled appeared on his face, before looking back towards the gauze on her side. He quickly checked it, slowly lowering the slip back down before clearing his throat. He studied the spot the slip stopped at, fighting the sudden urge to lean forward and run his mouth over her skin. He cleared his throat again, looking back at the woman in front of him. She had opened her eyes, studying him. He let her, not ashamed to be feeling what was coursing through him at the moment.

"Is it okay?" Trista asked softly, a little unnerved at the predatory look in the doctors' eyes. She sat up, wrapping the robe around her. He stayed squatted down for a moment, before slowly standing. Her eyes followed him, flushing a little at the look on his face.

"Yes," he said softly, not moving for several minutes.

She softly cleared her throat, looking away. She heard him move, and looked back. He took a seat beside her, studying her face. Trista suddenly felt uncomfortable, wandering if she had smeared makeup on her face or if her hair was mushed. She had just woken up after all! Silently cursing that she couldn't see into a mirror from where she was, she looked at the floor. She fiddled with the robe belt, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

"So where's your family?" she asked, not really knowing what else to say to dispel the silence. She looked over at him as he stayed silent. He met her eyes.

"Pretty far," he said quietly, his gaze roaming over her. She lifted a brow, not moving her eyes away from him.

"I've got two sons," he said softly, clasping his hands in front of him. "They're adults, but I'm still the head of the household, so to speak. And there was a slight...problem that needed to be taken care of."

Not knowing what else to say, she said the only thing she could think of. "Okay."

She bit her lip, a little surprised he had kids. _Does he have a wife stashed somewhere?_ She glanced at him, studying the side of his face before looking away. She couldn't look at the man as she voiced her question.

"So, you're married?"

She felt him jerk in surprise. She glanced at him. He had a shocked look on his face, his eyebrows raised.

"No," he stated softly, still staring at her. "Their mother died a couple years ago. Ovarian cancer."

"Oh," she whispered, biting her lip softly. "I'm sorry."

She saw him nod a little, acknowledging her condolences. She moved her head, meeting his gaze.

"You really thought I would ask you out if I was married!" he asked her, disbelief shadowing his voice.

Trista bit her lip, looking down at her lap. She shrugged a little. "I didn't really think about it. When you said you had two children, I just assumed..." she trailed off, a little embarrassed.

"Hey," Anthony said, waiting for her to turn to continue. "I would never cheat, no matter who I was with," he stated softly. "I have more respect for you than that! I like you Trista," he shifted closer to her, watching her flush slightly. His eyes were steady on her as he spoke again. "Give me another chance?"

Trista bit her lip, glancing at him before clearing her throat. She softly nodded, keeping her gaze turned away. He laied a hand on top of hers, slightly squeezing before standing.

"I'll see you later?" he asked softly, watching her bent head. He softly smiled when she nodded, not making a sound. He took a step closer, watching her head jerk up, meeting his eyes. He bent down and kissed her again, settling a hand on the back of her neck. He felt her mouth open beneath his, and deepened the kiss. He listened to her moan, before slowly moving away. Their faces were inches apart as he studied her, his eyes roaming over her features.

"I'll come by tomorrow," he whispered, feeling her nod before straightening. He walked to the door, glancing back at her, a small smile gracing his lips, before quietly closing the door behind him.

Trista let out a long breath, putting a hand to her burning cheeks. She glanced behind her at the door, before letting out another breath. She turned the side lamp off, locking the door before going back into her room. Shedding the robe, she climbed back in bed, laying on her back and studying the ceiling. Thoughts of what just happened flitted through her mind. She let out another loud breath.

"Man of my dreams," she said softly, still staring at the ceiling.

She didn't fall back asleep for the longest time, her eyes finally sliding shut as the room started lightening with the suns' rays.

* * *

She didn't really know what to make of their relationship. The doctor would come over, they would talk, mostly about nothing in particular. Sometimes they would go out to dinner, or lunch, depending on his schedule. She slowly got better, her side no longer needing to be covered, and the bruise along her jaw faded finally. They would go over to his apartment every now and then, and he would cook her dinner. She would do the same for him sometimes, when she knew he would be working a long shift. Their relationship was...well sorta friends, but with kissing. It never went beyond that. She wouldn't let it, even if he made her hotter than a damn Florida summer! She was still unsure about his interest in her. If it was just for a little companionship, or something else. He didn't force the issue, letting her make that decision. Though she could see the predatory look in his eyes every now and then, the same one that appeared the night he missed their first date. It made her shiver. She licked her lips, thinking about it as she marinated the meat in front of her. She was making him dinner, knowing that he would be off his shift soon. She looked at the clock, softly shaking her head. They had been watching a movie yesterday after lunch, when his phone had went off. Knowing it was most likely the hospital, she had cut the television off, staying silent as he answered. He had left quickly after, releasing a huge sigh before he had swooped down and kissed her, pulling back and stating that he would probably see her today, depending on how long his shift was. He had called a while ago, letting her know he was getting off soon, and had asked if she wanted to go to dinner. She had offered to cook for him instead. Now she was popping the steaks in the oven, keeping an eye on the vegetables and potatoes cooking on the stove. All she had to do now was the bread, after the steaks got done. She glanced into the oven, a little chuckle escaping. She had been surprised at his appetite. It was huge! She still didn't know exactly where he put it, seeing as how he was so fit. Absently wandering if his sons' had the same appetite, she flipped the four steaks after a while, pouring herself something to drink and sitting on the couch. A few minutes later she looked up as Anthony walked through the door, a sigh leaving him as he closed it behind him. She got up, studying him as he took his coat off. He looked beat! He walked up to her, bending down. A thrill went through her as his lips touched hers, her mouth opening automatically. She felt him lay a hand on her hip, lightly squeezing. He finally moved back, looking down at her. She noticed the slight drawn look on his face, and put her cup of wine in his hand.

"Why don't you sit down and relax while I finish dinner," she said softly, watching him take a grateful sip of her wine. He sat down heavily, leaning his head back. She studied his profile, still a little surprised, even after all these months, that they had a sort of relationship. She went into the kitchen, checking the food before glancing back through the door. Anthony had set the glass down on the side table, his head still leaned back against the couch, his eyes closed. _He looks so tired! _Absently wandering if he would even last through dinner, she softly closed the swinging door, biting her lip.

A few minutes later she had the food done, plates set out. She quietly went back into the living room, studying the man sleeping sitting up. Hating to even wake him, but knowing he needed to eat, she softly shook him. His eyes opened a little, studying her for a moment before he suddenly grabbed her around the waist. A small gasp escaped her as her back hit the couch. He was leaning over her, his eyes heavy lidded as he studied her for a moment, before swooping down and capturing her lips. Trista moaned, shifting a little. She could feel the cushions dip as he moved, his hands resting on either side of her head, his lower body pressing her into the couch. She gasped into his mouth as he slid a hand up under her blouse, covering one breast. Her breath hitched a little as he squeezed, rubbing a moment later. He changed the angle of the kiss, ravishing her mouth before he started unbuttoning her shirt. His mouth trailed down, his lips running over the top of her bra. She buried her hands in his hair, feeling air hit her skin as he unclasped it, moving it aside. She groaned a moment later at the feel of his mouth over her, his tongue playing across her skin. She felt his hand slid down her stomach, suddenly feeling apprehensive. Trista bit her lip, laying a hand over the one on her abdomen. Anthony lifted his head to study her through lowered eyelids. She let her gaze slide away, before moving out from under him. He sat up, giving her his hand as he stood. They stood there in silence for a moment, before she softly stated that dinner was done. The man swooped down and kissed her again briefly before turning and going into the kitchen. Trista watched him disappear through the swinging door, letting a breath out as she buttoned her shirt back. She glanced at the couch, flushing slightly before following the doctor.

They ate in compatible silence, although it was a little uncomfortable for her. After all, the man across from her just ravished her on her couch. She thought about what it would be like, if she hadn't stopped him. They would probably have already had sex! She cleared her throat, looking down at her plate. Anthony glanced at her, forking some food into his mouth. A small smile appeared on his face, studying her slightly bent head. He knew what she was thinking, feeling an answering desire shoot through his body. But he could wait. He had all the time in the world to wait for this woman, so he didn't feel the need to push her. He would let her make the decision when they would finally sleep together. He didn't take his eyes off her as he reached for his glass, taking a sip as he watched the woman opposite him. She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. He watched a flush rise on her face, before looking back down again.

They finally finished dinner, taking their wine glasses and moving to the living room. Trista popped in a movie, just like every other time when she would cook, and settled beside him on the couch. Anthony laid an arm across the back, lifting his leg and resting a foot on his other knee. She glanced over at him, wandering if he would even last through the whole movie, when he looked over. He held her gaze, lifting his glass and taking a drink without breaking eye contact. She quickly looked away, shifting slightly beside him. She turned her attention to the movie as it started, not looking over as he wrapped an arm around her back, bringing her closer. She rested her head on the shoulder behind her, watching as the movie ran the beginning credits. They didn't say anything to each other as the movie played, Anthony pulling a throw over them halfway through. He had settled back, his head resting on the couch cushion behind him, while Trista had snuggled closer, a hand resting on his chest. The movie finally ended after awhile, and she moved her head, glancing at Anthony. He was asleep, his head turned away from her, his arm slack underneath her. She slowly got up, careful not to disturb him. She cut the movie off, turning towards the man sleeping on her couch. She hated to wake him, but knew that he needed regular rest, not propped up on a couch! She gently shook his arm, watching as he let out a breath, finally lifting his head. She stepped back, grabbing the cover and folding it. He studied her for a moment, before standing up. She watched him stretch out of the corner of her eye, swallowing as she sat the throw down in the chair beside her. She finally looked over, meeting his eyes.

"You okay?" she asked softly, studying his tired face. "I can tell you're worn out."

He sort of grunted, which made her smile a little. She watched him take a step towards her, looking down at her before swooping in, his mouth moving over hers. She moaned a little, wrapping her hands around his neck. Anthony finally lifted his head, burying his face in her neck, his arms wrapped around her waist. Trista took a breath, closing her eyes.

"Do you care if I stay?"

She opened her eyes, staring at the front door before leaning back, looking at the man holding her. His eyes roamed her face, and she bit her lip as she looked away. His voice had her looking back at him.

"Don't worry," he whispered, his lips inches from hers. "Nothing will happen that you don't want to," Anthony stated, watching the indecision cross her features. He waited, his arm never moving from around her waist.

He listened to her sigh, before squeezing his arm slightly. "Okay," she whispered, not meeting his eyes as she moved away. She turned and entered her room, grabbing a pair of sleeping pants and a shirt, going into the bathroom. She quickly shut it, changing within minutes and making her way back into her bedroom again. He had already taken off his shoes and his shirt, keeping his blue undershirt and pants on. She bit her lip, her gaze going to the bed. She climbed in, slightly embarrassed. She hadn't shared her bed with a man in a long time. It had been almost two years with James, and there hadn't been anyone else afterward. She didn't look over as he slipped in beside her, facing her. After a moment she looked over, flushing as she caught him studying her. He put an arm around her, slowly dragging her towards him. A thrill went through her as she was pulled onto her side, her back touching Anthony's chest. His arm stayed wrapped around her waist, his breath on the back of her neck. She bit her lip, willing her body to relax. He tightened his hold a little, moving a little closer to her before his breathing evened out. She could tell he finally fell asleep, the hold on her waist slackened, and his body relaxed. She stayed a little tense for awhile, before her eyes finally closed in exhaustion. Soon she was asleep as well, the feel of the man behind her somehow oddly comforting, making her feel safe.

* * *

She slowly woke, keeping her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of warmth enveloping her. She opened her eyes, realizing a moment later where that warmth was coming from. Her eyes met blue, her mind clearing a second later, realizing she was facing Anthony, her face buried in his chest. Feeling a blush rise, she didn't move for several minutes, the feel of his arm tightening around her waist making her bite her lip. She studied his muscular arm, absently wandering how he got so fit, when she felt his hand move, brushing the hair away from her face. She closed her eyes, sighing a little.

"What do you want for breakfast?" she heard him ask softly, feeling the rumble in his chest as he spoke. Trista opened her eyes, glancing up at him. She silently gasped, their lips inches apart. They studied each other for a moment, before he bent down, capturing her lips. She felt him move after a moment, his lips never leaving hers as she was gently pushed onto her back, the man kissing her propping himself on an arm, his lower half pressed against her side. She could feel his arousal, a moan escaping as he changed the angle of the kiss. She squeezed his arms, sliding her hands up and grabbing his shoulders.

He continued to kiss her, his hand sliding behind her head and arching her neck, deepening the kiss. Trista felt another moan escape, not saying anything when he straddled her. He settled between her legs, keeping his body propped up on his knees, not rushing her. He moved to her neck, running his tongue along her skin as he put a hand underneath her shirt. She gasped as he palmed her breasts, exposing her to his gaze a few minutes later, lowering his mouth to her. She buried her hands in his hair, arching her back. His hands moved, rubbing down her sides to her thighs, slightly squeezing before grabbing her leg, lifting it and putting it around his waist. He lowered his body, rubbing against her as he continued to kiss her breasts. She wrapped her other leg around him, lifting her hips. She kept her eyes closed, rubbing her hands along his shoulders and back.

Her focus zeroed in on the hand sliding over her abdomen, his fingertips going under the waistband of her pants. She grabbed his wrist, not ready for that sort of intimacy. He moved it without question, squeezing her thigh. She moaned, shifting underneath him again. He lifted his head, capturing her lips again. She whimpered a little at the passion in the kiss, feeling him move his hand over her pants. She gasped into his mouth as he rubbed her through her clothes. He continued to kiss her, his hand moving slowly as he rubbed between her legs. A sob escaped, and she fiercely kissed him, lifting her hips. He started going faster as she cried out, writhing her hips. She pressed against him, feeling the evidence of his arousal through his pants. But he didn't try to make her have sex, just gave her pleasure as their lips stayed locked together, another cry escaping as she neared her release.

He returned to her breasts, his hand pressing harder as he felt a shudder run through her. He moved his hand faster, her nails digging into his shoulders. He listened to her gasp, a low moan coming out of her a second later as she arched her hips again. She cried out, Anthony moving back to her mouth as her body shook, a shudder going through her as her release shot thru her. She moaned, her body limp as another shudder went through her, kissing the man above her as he moved his hand back to the side of her head, his lips soft now.

He moved after a couple minutes, gazing down at her. Her lips were swollen, her face flushed. Anthony groaned, capturing her lips again, before moving a little, leaning his forehead against hers as he let a breath out. He finally sat up, studying her for a moment before moving off the bed. He watched her sit up, leaning over her and looking at her face. Trista could feel the flush rising, her gaze sliding away.

"Do you want to go out for breakfast?" Anthony asked softly, watching her bite her lip as she shook her head. He smiled a little, before standing back up. He cupped her neck before leaving the room, knowing she was a little embarrassed about her reaction a few minutes ago. He grunted a little, the small smile still on his face. If she responded like that without him actually touching her skin to skin, imagine how she'll be once they do have sex! He felt his body respond to that, sighing a little as he turned his mind to other things, knowing the woman in the bedroom wasn't ready yet for their relationship to progress. He grunted a little. The best things come to those who wait! He smiled at the thought, taking stuff out of the fridge to start breakfast.

* * *

**A/N: A little lime!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning: Language!**

For the Love of a Guardian

8

She didn't know what woke her, but she jerked awake, her eyes popping open. It only took her a second to realize she wasn't alone. A scream escaped as a hand clamped over her mouth. Hard! She started thrashing, absently wishing she had let Anthony stay again. Silently cursing herself for finally making him sleep in his own bed, she swung out. She heard a grunt, and the hand over her mouth tightened. She screamed into it, kicking her legs. They were suddenly pinned, the body above her heavy. The man grabbed her arm, flinching at the grip as she tried to rake her nails over his face. She finally got a good look at him. _James! Oh God! How did he get in here!?_ She almost retched at the beer breath coming from him, bucking and trying to throw him off her. He smiled, obviously seeing the rage in her eyes. She tried to move again, but his slightly overweight body had her immobile. He finally moved his hand from her mouth, grabbing her throat.

"Get the fuck off me!" She screamed, grabbing his wrist.

She gasped as he tightened his hold around her neck, a choked sound coming from her as he lowered his head. He grabbed her hair, jerking her head back. She could tell he was pissed.

"You thought you were rid of me, didn't you bitch! You and that cunt of a mother, kicking me out of my home. You actually thought I would let that go, huh!?" He pulled harder on her hair, a cry escaping her lips.

"You thought you would take that money and run?"

Her eyes widened as he lifted up, raising a hand. He smacked her hard across the face, his teeth flashing as he clenched his jaw. A sob escaped Trista's throat, her voice raw from his tightened hold. He smacked her again, drawing blood from her lip. She could feel it slightly pooling in her mouth, swallowing. She suddenly started thrashing again, swinging her arms. She heard him grunt as her fist connected with his jaw. His hand around her throat squeezed, and she gasped, grabbing his wrist with both hands. She clawed at his hand, her lungs screaming for air. Terror went through her as she heard the sound of a belt loosening, a zipper lowering loud in the room. She tried to fight, but with no air, she was weakened, and her blows didn't do anything. He nudged her legs apart, ignoring her attempt to clamp them closed. A small whimper came out, and her vision started darkening. She felt his hand on her pants, roughly trying to jerk them down. He was suddenly yanked off her, a gasp escaping as she sucked in air. The sound of fists hitting flesh reached her ears, and she swallowed, looking over. Her eyes widened a little at the sight of Anthony above her ex, James, viciously ramming his fists into the mans face. His movements were fast, almost impossible to detect. She blinked, not real sure what she was seeing. Trista closed her eyes, another gasp escaping her as she choked. Her hand touched her throat, a sob escaping. She curled up in the fetal position, not looking up when the sounds of the one-sided fight stopped. She flinched a little at the gentle hand on her hip, balling up even more, burying her hands into her face. She didn't say anything as he reached over and grabbed the phone, the sound of him dialing loud in the room. He spoke in it for a few minutes, before slowly leaving her side, walking out of the room for a moment. She didn't ask him where he went, another soft sob escaping as he settled back beside her. She felt him move the hair away from her face, a few minutes later the sound of people entering the apartment had her peeking through her fingers. Two cops entered her room, along with a medic. Anthony finally moved, crossing his arms and staying by the bed as the woman medic checked her over, before insisting that she go to the hospital for a more thorough evaluation. The two cops talked to her for a few minutes, before glancing over at the unconscious man on the floor. They looked at Anthony. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he met their eyes.

"You did this?" One of them asked softly, watching the man's eyes narrow.

"Yes," Anthony stated, not even looking at Trista's ex.

They looked at the woman on the bed, her hands still covering her face, waiting for the medics to bring in a gurney, to transport her to the hospital. They looked back at the man standing by the bed. The older one shook his head.

"Remind me never to get you mad Doctor!" he said, sighing a little as his gaze went back to the bloody pulp at his feet.

They looked at the woman again. "And you're wanting to press charges ma'am?" the older one asked gently, watching her nod.

"You are aware," the other officer stated, "that he will be charged with attempted rape, and attempted murder."

They watched her nod again, before pulling out a form. "We'll need you to give statements once you've been checked out at the hospital," the older cop stated softly, looking from the woman to the Doctor. He saw the look the doctor gave the woman, before turning back to them. He watched him nod, before moving and letting the second set of medics pick up the man, putting him on a gurney before leaving, the younger officer following them. The older one stayed, not seeing a reason to follow his partner. After all, the damn man couldn't do anything! As beaten as he was! He looked at the doctor again, then at his hands. He was slightly surprised they weren't bloody or red. They were perfectly fine, as if he didn't just beat the shit out of someone! The older officer glanced at Anthony's face again, before grunting a little, moving out of the way as the medics from before returned to transport the woman to the hospital. He waited until they were leaving, before addressing the man across from him.

"It's good to see you again Anthony. It's a shame it had to be under these circumstances," he stated softly, following the man out of the apartment.

The man grunted a little, glancing at him as he went down the stairs, heading towards the ambulance containing the woman.

"You too Macomber," Anthony said softly, sending him a small smile before closing the back door to the ambulance. The officer watched him settle beside the woman, sitting on the seat next to her. He laid a hand on her hip, his other hand resting near her head. The man watched them for a moment, before getting into his police car, vaguely noticing that his partner had already left in his vehicle, heading to the hospital. They had a man under arrest, after all. He grunted a little, thinking of his friend again.

"I wander if he's told her where he's from yet," he murmured, starting his vehicle up and tailing the ambulance to the hospital.

* * *

Anthony listened, his face impassive, as the older police officer let him know that they had to set the man's jaw. And he would have to wear a brace around his neck. Apparently he had almost broke the man's neck. He silently wished he had, but knew that wouldn't have been a smart move, especially when it came to the woman in the bed in front of him. He studied her for a moment, before going back outside. His friend, David Macomber, was leaning against the wall, his walkie talkie going off after a moment. He reached up and lowered it, looking over as the doctor came out of the room. They studied one another for a moment, before Anthony silently made his way to the cafeteria. They both grabbed a cup of coffee, settling in a booth before the police officer spoke.

"He's trying to press charges against you," he stated softly, taking a sip of his coffee as he studied the man across him.

A muscle jumped in Anthony's jaw, his gaze steady as his eyes bore into the man. "And are you?"

They were both silent for a moment, before Officer Macomber slowly shook his head. "It won't hold up in court, especially with the evidence of attempted rape from the woman. And..." he paused for a moment, studying the man. "There's evidence that he tried to strangle her, and whatever he tries to counter won't fly. Especially if he gets Graham as a judge," Macomber stated, taking another drink from his cup. Anthony nodded, his face grim as he wrapped his hands around the hot Styrofoam cup. He thought of the woman in the room above, and narrowed his eyes.

"Good," he stated, meeting the Officer's eyes. "He doesn't put up with that shit!"

Officer Macomber took another sip of his coffee, setting it down on the table before clearing his throat. He lowered his voice slightly as he spoke.

"I could try to request him," he offered, watching his friend. Anthony nodded, not saying a word.

They sat in silence for awhile, grabbing some food when dinner rolled around, before speaking again.

"Have you told her yet?" Officer Macomber asked, glancing at the doctor across from him. He grunted when the man slowly shook his head. "Are you going to?"

The Doctor furrowed his brows, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he chewed. He finally paused, meeting his friend's gaze. "It hasn't come up," he stated softly, sighing a little. He forked more food into his mouth, swallowing before speaking again. "The right moment hasn't appeared, and..." he swallowed again, his gaze on his plate. "I don't want to scare her off just yet."

Macomber smiled a little, taking a drink before pointing his fork at the man. "You'd better do it fast, before you two get any more deeper into a relationship," he stated softly, continuing to eat after a moment.

Anthony glanced at the Officer across from him, sighing after a moment.

"Yeah," he murmured, "You're right. Look how you reacted when you found out!" He smirked a little at the frown on the man's face, his eyes narrowed. "I think you screamed like a little girl!" A chuckle escaped the Doctors lips as his friends' face reddened.

"I did not!" Officer Macomber stated, shoveling more food into his mouth, shooting the man a glare.

Anthony didn't say anything, just smiled, amusement in his eyes at his friends apparent discomfort.

They soon left the cafeteria, the police officer going to the second floor towards the man currently in custody, Anthony heading towards the seventh floor, back to the woman who he was realizing meant more to him than she should in such a short amount of time.

* * *

She was finally released, after around a week of rest in the hospital. They made their way straight to the police department, enduring the slow process of each of them giving their statements, separate of course. Trista released a huge sigh of relief when they finally made it back to the apartments, feeling worn out. She didn't say anything as Anthony followed her into the apartment. She went into her room, and paused. Her bed was still rumpled from the encounter, blood on the pillow. She swallowed, feeling Anthony put a hand on her arm.

"You can stay with me for awhile, if you want," he said softly, squeezing her arm lightly before kissing the side of her head.

She closed her eyes, taking a breath. "Sure," she said softly, not glancing at the bed again as she grabbed some clothes and necessities. They quickly left, making their way to the Dr.'s apartment. Neither spoke as he shut the door, studying her before making his way down the hall. She sat her bag down by the door, smiling a little as she heard Lucy bark. A moment later the lab came bounding into the room, softly sniffing her before sitting down, her tail wagging. Trista reached down and gently petted her.

"Hey girl," she said softly, looking up at Anthony when he came back into the room. He grabbed her bag, moving his head slightly, indicating for her to follow. He opened a door down the hall, setting her bag on the bed. She looked around at the barren space, silently raising a brow.

A small smile appeared on his face. "This is a guest room," he explained softly, "for when one of my boys comes and visits."

He slowly walked up to her, studying her for a few minutes before cupping her neck. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes roaming her features.

She nodded, laying her forehead on his chest.

"Are you hungry?" he whispered, running a hand down her hair. He felt her nod, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"We could go out to eat. There's a nice place not too far from here. It's quiet, and they have good food," he offered, feeling her nod again. He stepped back after a moment.

"I'll let you get ready," he stated, pausing at the door. He sent her a small smile, before softly closing the door behind him.

Trista sighed, looking around again before unzipping her bag. She paused, blinking down at the contents. There was a small pink rose sitting on top of her clothing. She slowly reached for it, studying it for a moment before looking towards the door. _When did he have time to put this in here?_ She looked at the rose again, a small smile appearing. She brought it to her nose, breathing in the musky scent before setting it on the nightstand, glancing at it once more before leaving the room. She grinned, suddenly feeling tons better.

* * *

She stayed at Anthony's for a week, before finally going back home. She didn't want to overstay her welcome, after all! He had tried to get her to stay, but she felt uncomfortable being there for so long as it was, so she said thank you, but no. Trista sighed a little, tugging the bedding off the mattress, going to the connecting wash room. She stuffed it into the massive washer, before turning it on and leaving the room. She quickly replaced the sheets and comforter, before laying down, staring at the ceiling. She started thinking of the past few months, since the accident. She never got to go back to school, never went house hunting. That had been the farthest thing from her mind since she met Dr. Spangler. Anthony. A sigh left her, thinking about the man who was so close to her dream guy, it was scary! And thrilling! It still shocked her sometimes, even now, how much the man looked like Goku. The only difference is that his hair is shorter, and he's here. In her world. And his name is different. But what are the odds! Finding a man like that!? Trista sighed again, a small smile on her face. She let herself doze off for awhile, before finally getting up and getting into the shower. Ashley had called her earlier, wanting to go out tonight. She hadn't really wanted to, wanting to spend some time with the doctor, but figured a girls night would be good. So she said yes, and now she was standing in front of her closet, trying to find something decent to wear. She finally settled on a red button-up blouse, and black dress pants. She pulled some black boots on, zipping the side up as soon as the doorbell rang. She listened to the boots clopping over the hardwood floor as she went to go answer it. A smile spread on her face.

"Hey," Anthony said softly, his gaze roaming over her.

She had curled her hair, adding a little makeup to her face. He studied her outfit for another moment, before meeting her eyes.

"Going out?" he asked, a smile spreading. Trista nodded, opening the door wider.

She sighed. "Yeah, Ashley wanted to go somewhere tonight," she said softly, watching the man's eyebrows furrow. He slipped an arm around her waist.

"Are you sure," he asked softly, studying her. "You do need your rest."

A small smile appeared. "Ever the doctor, huh!?"

Anthony smiled, before swooping down and kissing her.

"Oh!"

They broke apart, looking towards the front door. Trista could feel her face flush, biting her lip as her best friend, Ashley, beamed before closing the door.

Her friend looked from her to the doctor, then back. "Was I interrupting something?"

"Shut up Ashley," Trista said, heading back towards her room. She knew her make-up was probably smeared. She vaguely heard her friend tell Anthony he had lipstick on his mouth, and softly groaned. She looked in the mirror, feeling her face redden even more. She quickly fixed it before leaving. She told Anthony to make himself at home before going out the door. She sighed, slightly wishing she could have stayed home, with the man currently standing in her living room.


	9. Chapter 9

For the Love of a Guardian

9

He was sleeping on her couch when she came home later that night. Trista softly closed the front door, trying not to make a sound as she made her way into her room. She threw her clothing in the hamper, before pulling on some drawstring pants and a tank-top. She leaned against the back of the couch, gazing down at the man conked out in her living room. A small smile appeared on her face, her gaze going to Anthony's hair. Trista studied it for a moment, before turning and going back into her room. She laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling for the longest time. _Why does he look so much like Goku!_ She bit her lip, rolling onto her side and her brows furrowed. _It's so uncanny, the hair, the facial features, those eyes! But..._Trista let a sigh out as she closed her eyes. _I don't think Goku would become a doctor, especially with his phobia of needles. _A small smile graced her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

_I'll ask him in the morning..._

_XXX_

They were making breakfast a few mornings later when she remembered what she wanted to ask him. Trista bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder at Anthony, who was in the process of buttering the toast. She returned her gaze to the grits she was stirring, swallowing as nervousness fluttered through her. _Why am I so nervous? _She licked her lips, her movements slowing until she was just standing there, staring down at the pot. A moment went by before she realized...she was afraid of his answer. Trista sucked in a large breath, giving a quick stir to the grits before turning quickly before she lost her nerve.

"Um...Anthony?"

"Hn," he absently answered, setting a piece of toast down before grabbing another, slathering it with butter. His head came up when she stayed silent.

"What is it," he asked softly, laying the knife down as Trista studied his features.

Trista's gaze slid away for a moment before returning. "I just...I wanted to ask you something," she said softly, watching his eyes sharpen on her face. She bit her lip again.

"Yes," Anthony questioned, turning and folding his arms, leaning back against the counter.

It was silent for several minutes as Trista thought about how she wanted to word her question.

"Why...I was just..." she paused, taking a deep breath. "Do you remember when I was in the hospital, when I first met you?" She waited for him to nod before continuing. "Remember when I woke up and saw you for the first time? Do you remember what I called you?" she asked in a whisper, holding her breath as he stood there silently. She resisted the urge to shift her feet as he studied her intently.

"Yes," he finally said, his voice quiet.

"Well," Trista said, drawing out that one word. "I just thought that, with...with everything that's happened that I would-"

"It's funny how some people look so much alike isn't it," Anthony stated softly, a small smile appearing on his lips. He turned back to the toast, not saying anything else.

Trista stared at his back, her eyes a little wide. Wait a minute! He was just going to leave it at that!? Just chalking it up to _coincidence!_ Her brows furrowed a little as she crossed her arms.

"Anthony," she said sharply. She gulped as the man's back tensed, his shoulders going rigid. He didn't turn.

"I just don't understand how you could look identical to a man I know of...and just not expect me to ask you any questions about it," she stated quietly, listening to the silence in the kitchen as Anthony stood there with his back to her, not responding.

"Anthony," Trista whispered his name, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He abruptly turned and left the kitchen. Trista stared at the swinging door, flinching a little when she heard the front door slam shut a moment later. She stood there in silence for the longest time, before the smell of burning grits brought her out of her shock. She walked over and cut the burner off, her gaze absently roaming the counter top, staring at all the food sitting there. She wasn't even hungry anymore.

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her head shot up when the kitchen door suddenly slammed against the wall. Her mouth parted as her eyes widened. Anthony stood in the doorway, a serious frown on his face. Trista gulped at the steel in his eyes. She took a step back as he purposely strode forward.

"I didn't want to rush things you know," Anthony stated, still stalking forward. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

"I-"

"But I guess it would have come to this sooner or later right!?" he said loudly, cutting her off as he wrapped an arm firmly around her waist.

Trista stared up at the man, a little shiver going through her. Anthony seemed...mad. He narrowed his eyes down at her, confirming her suspicions.

"Anthony, I'm sorry-"

He swooped down and captured her lips, firmly cutting her off once more. A whimper escaped her as he furiously ground his mouth against hers, before abruptly softening the kiss, sliding his lips against her jaw. She felt his breath fan the side of her face.

"Don't be scared," he whispered in her ear, holding her to him as she tried to extract herself.

"Anthony," Trista said shakily, pushing against his shoulders again. He wouldn't move. "You're scaring me. What's going on?"

The man didn't answer her, just continued to hold her against him, his face still settled against her neck. "Don't be afraid okay," he whispered against her skin.

Trista felt a sliver of fear course down her spine. She suddenly felt dizzy, gasping for air. Her vision blurred, and she clutched Anthony's shoulders, not understanding what was going on. "Don't be afraid..." she heard him whisper a second time. "...of me."

She closed her eyes to the odd sensation of falling, her stomach flipping. She whimpered right before her vision went black, wandering about the man's last statement before her mind went blank.

XXX

It's funny how sometimes, you just can't escape your past. How it always comes back, rearing its ugly head, even when you've tried to turn your life around.

He stared down at the woman in his arms, Trista having passed out halfway through their...journey. He swallowed, studying her soft features before letting a sigh out. He was pretty sure she was going to hate him now, after she woke up and realized where they were. He held her more firmly against him, biting back a curse when he heard the door to the house behind him open. He hadn't wanted to run into anybody yet, wanted to spend more time with the woman he'd fallen hard for before she woke up and all hell broke loose.

"Hey Dad! I didn't expect you back so soon!"

He slowly turned, watching the man's face carefully as he held Trista more firmly against him. "Hey son," he said softly. The young man stared at the woman, before lifting his gaze. It was quiet for several seconds before either spoke.

"Is she hurt?" his son asked softly, his eyes roaming over her form, looking for any signs of injury. He shot the man a soft smile. Leave it to the boy to inquire about her welfare above all else.

"No," he finally said, before starting forward, holding Trista firmly in his arms. "She just passed out."

"So this is..." his son trailed off, his eyes widening a little as they shot up to meet his. "This is the woman you told us about?"

"Yes," he stated firmly, moving passed his grown son and entering the house. He quickly made it to his bedroom, gently laying her down on top of the covers. She didn't stir. He studied her features, gently moving strands away from her face before straightening up. He turned and left, softly closing the door behind him.

He ignored his sons' questioning gaze, striding back outside. He let a sigh out, crossing his arms and spreading his feet shoulder width apart. He studied the sky, his eyes narrowing.

"Hey dad," his son said behind him, coming to stand at his shoulder. He didn't move his gaze away from the sky, his mouth firming a little. "Is she staying?" the young man asked softly. He could feel his boy look over at him.

"I don't know," he finally said, tensing a little a moment later.

"They're on their way," his son said quietly. He grunted, letting his arms fall to his sides as he prepared himself.

"Everyone's going to be happy to see you again," the young man beside him stated, "but I don't know how their going to react to the...guest you brought along."

He felt a scowl appear on his face at his sons' words.

"One more question before they get here," his son said, crossing his arms.

He finally looked over, meeting the man's eyes. "What is it?"

His son studied him for a moment before sighing, looking back up at the sky.

"Have you told Goten yet?"

"No."

XXX

Neither of them said anything else as they waited for their friends to arrive. He stayed silent as, one by one, everyone showed up. He shot them a small smile at their excited greetings, his eyes roaming over everybody. His eyes shot to the man strolling forward, his arms crossed, a frown on his face. He tensed a little once more, remembering their last confrontation on his last visit. It had not been pretty.

"Vegeta," he said firmly, his eyes watching the man's every move.

"Kakkarot," the man said as a way of greeting, before entering the house, not saying another word.

He let a small, relieved breath out, giving his younger son a hug before they all made their way into the house.

"Hey Goku," his scarred friend asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

He quirked a brow at him, silently waiting.

"We were all wandering..." Yamcha trailed off for a moment, before clearing his throat. Everyone else became quiet. "We don't want to intrude but..."

Goku crossed his arms, his fingers tapping against his arm. He didn't say anything, just waited.

"Who's that?" the man asked, looking over his shoulder.

He jerked his head around, suddenly realizing why everyone had became quiet. He swallowed hard, his arms slowly lowering.

Trista stood in the doorway, her eyes wide. Her face had whitened, her lips parted as she stared at everyone in the kitchen. He took a step towards her, pausing when her eyes shot to his, widening even further. A gasp escaped her, and she whirled around, taking off down the hall. He heard a door slam, the sound loud in the silent house.

Goku swallowed hard again, sighing as he closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Dammit," he muttered, before lifting his head as he turned. Everyone was watching him, questions in their eyes.

"Hey dad," Goten asked, his brows furrowed a little. "Who was that?"

He pinched his lips together, crossing his arms. "That was Trista," he stated quietly, listening as low murmurs erupted throughout the group.

"That's her!?" Yamcha said loudly, disbelief in his tone. Goku narrowed his eyes at the man. The scarred warrior stuttered a little under his glare. "I just...uh...never expected her to be so..." Yamcha trailed off, gulping loudly.

"Be so what?" Goku said quietly, lowering his head as he kept his gaze on the man.

"Hot!" Yamcha squeaked out, taking several steps away from the taller man.

Goku grunted, a small smirk appearing on his lips. He met Gohan's eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"I'll be right back you guys," he stated before turning and quickly making his way towards his bedroom.

He paused at the door, letting a small sigh out before slowly opening it.

She was sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard, her arms wrapped around her knees. She didn't look over as he entered.

"Trista," he said quietly, slowly sitting on the bed. He swallowed, a sigh coming out of him.

"Why didn't you tell me Anth-" Trista cut off, and he heard her suck in a breath. "Goku?"

He was quiet for several minutes, silently cursing himself for not coming clean with the woman sooner.

"I'm sorry," he said, listening to her shift on the bed. He couldn't look at her, afraid of the anger she was sure to have towards him. He didn't want to see it, didn't want to hear the biting words cutting him down. Goku clenched his jaw, his head hanging, his shoulders drooping. He really thought this time would be different. That he had met someone who he could spend the rest of his life peacefully with. Unlike his late wife, he had thought that Trista would love him like he did her. He had thought that...that she would accept him for who he was, not keep trying to change him like ChiChi used to do.

Goku sighed. He knew that she might, possibly be scared at first, finding out the truth. That's why he was trying to take it slow, and not jump into anything with blinders on. Like he did with ChiChi.

He listened to the silence for a few moments, before slowly standing up. Apparently she didn't want to talk to him.

Goku froze as a hand clasped around his, softly squeezing. He looked down at their hands, before looking behind him. Trista was studying him with wide eyes, the fear in her eyes still apparent. He slowly turned, sitting back down. His gaze never left her as he scooted over towards her, slowly wrapping an arm around her.

"It's okay," he whispered, settling his chin on top of Trista's head, listening to her sharp intake of breath. He tightened his arm around her, running his hand down her hair.

"I'm sorry for not telling you the truth," he whispered into her hair, taking in the scent of the woman he loved. "I was afraid you would hate this...hate me," he confessed softly.

"I don't hate you..." he heard her swallow. "Goku."

"You're not afraid of me...are you?" Goku asked tentatively, feeling his heart thud as Trista kept quiet.

"No," she finally stated, her hand squeezing around his once more.

Relief flooded through him as his body relaxed, kissing her forehead before moving back. He met her eyes, running his thumb along her cheek.

"You know," he said softly after several minutes. "My sons are excited about meeting you."

Trista's eyes widened, and she looked towards the door. She looked back at him after a moment, swallowing. "Really!" she asked, disbelief in her tone.

"MmMm." A soft smile crossed his lips, and Goku stood, holding his hand out.

Trista eyes widened. "Now!" she squeaked out, staring up at him.

"If you want," he said softly, sliding his hand along her neck. His smile turned into a grin at her soft gasp. He leaned down and softly captured her lips, sliding his tongue along hers as they both groaned. He pulled back at the loud knock on the door.

"Hey Goku, is everything okay?"

He met Trista's eyes, slowly smiling once more.

"Yeah," he finally answered, still holding Trista's gaze. "Everything is fine."


End file.
